


Powerless (edit)

by prettyface_lonelyheart



Series: Only One [5]
Category: Inglourious Basterds (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/M, Fantasy with Modern Technology, Princes & Princesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyface_lonelyheart/pseuds/prettyface_lonelyheart
Summary: An edited version of "Powerless" (Part 4 of the "Only One" series)





	Powerless (edit)

**Author's Note:**

> Did this as part of my final portfolio for Fiction Workshop. Tell me which version you prefer!

“I don’t know why you’re wasting your time doing this ‘research’. What good will it do us, anyway?” King Werner waved his arm over citizens’ files scattered about the desktop.

“Well, father, if you must know,” Prince Hugo leaned back in his seat behind the desk. “It will benefit Matthias. And Matthias helps me immensely with my duties, thus helping you.”

The King stood up straight, stunned at the argument laid out before him. After a two-minute silence, he spoke again.

“You do make a good point,” he admitted and looked around the room. “Where is he anyway? He’s always disappearing on me...”

“Check the conference room,” Hugo suggested. “He told me he was going to go over some last-minute plans with the staff for this afternoon.”

“Very well,” Werner nodded and left for the conference room.

Hugo continued to sift through the piles of manila folders in front of him. They were thinner than his father’s patience, that’s for sure.

He picked one out and flipped it open. 

> **Name: Aria Ashley**
> 
> **Location: Cresilen, Germany**

* * *

While the children in the orphanage chased each other around the yard, one of the little ones, Renee, tripped over a tree root. She landed on her hands and knees on the sand. Being the secondary caretaker and the oldest one in the house, Aria was expected to be alert for such incidents (as if school wasn’t already sucking the life out of her). The moment Aria heard the “thud!” on the sand, she sprang into action, determining where it’d come from and running to the injured child.

Renee wailed, her angelic features contorted in pain.

“I’m right here, sweetie,” Aria cooed.

She got on one knee and scooped the tiny body into her arms, being careful not to touch the bright pink mark on the knee.

Aria rushed into the house, sat Renee on the kitchen counter, and got out a first aid kit.

“This will sting a little, okay?” Aria told her in a soothing voice, holding the small limb up with one hand and an alcohol swab with the other.

Having calmed down already—save for some tears—Renee nodded with a pout, her fists balled up below her chin, before squeezing her eyes shut, preparing herself for the burning sensation.

Right before she went to swipe the cloth over the area, Aria stopped.

“What in the...?” she looked in disbelief at the knee.

The redness had been greatly reduced. Untouched skin replaced some spots where torn skin had been.

Aria shook her head slightly, blinking her dark brown eyes and dabbed what was left of the scrape with the disinfectant.

Much to the surprise of both girls, there was no squeak of pain from Renee.

Once she’d gotten all the bits of gravel off the pink flesh, Aria stuck a bandage over it. She threw out the wrappers, wiped off any leftover dirt from the little girl’s hands, and helped her down from the counter.

“Okay, no more running for now,” Aria smiled and patted the head of curls leveled with the middle of her thigh.

But right when she got her last word out, Renee did just that, wanting to rejoin the other kids in the yard.

“Renee!” Aria called.

She didn’t know what she was going to say, but she couldn’t ignore how peculiar it was.

 _She_ just _got hurt..._ Aria thought to herself. _How...? No, that can’t be._

“Ney, can you come here, please?” the words escaped her mouth.

The little one walked back into the kitchen, a look of guilt on her face.

“You’re not in trouble. I just... I need to check your knee again,” Aria got down to her level on the ground and gently peeled back the bandage.

No sign of any scrape ever being there. No redness, no broken layer of skin. Nothing.

Regardless, she recovered the area and pecked Renee’s forehead.

“Okay, be careful this time, sweetie.”

* * *

Several more incidents occurred over the years. Her foster mother, Rosie, nicked her thumb when preparing dinner. One of the children got hit with a soccer ball. Aimee, a friend from school, was stressed over a big exam. Somehow, Aria was able to “cure” them all. (Perhaps this was why, despite being 20 years old now, Aria stayed at the orphanage to care for the children. It was the least she could do while she went to school with Rosie’s pay.)

There was no possible explanation for this gift. All attempts to trace her background led nowhere. The only thing Rosie knew was that all the children she cared for now were handed to her by an elderly woman who fled the chaos of war some kingdoms over. Was the woman a witch? Was something else entirely responsible?

Eventually, Aria learned how to manage her power and discovered that, while it was beneficial to those around her, it came with a price.

It made sense, anyway. The pain had to go _somewhere_.

After healing someone, Aria would find a place to be alone. With her back against the door or wall, she closed her eyes as she breathed in and out, feeling the pain slowly evaporate as she cried.

It wasn’t unusual for her to be left feeling isolated. She didn’t want to burden others with her sorrow. Not after being shut out so many times. The only responses she got whenever she tried reaching out boiled down to “no one wants to hear it”.

Over the years, she discovered she might not be the only one with powers. While this presented itself as an opportunity to connect with those who may have struggled with similar feelings, she felt there was no real potential. She had a “soft” power, in her eyes. Praise was often reserved for the idea of people who could lift trains over their heads or seductresses who lure men. The legend states that the latter tricked men who have harassed other women. The seductress would then beat those men to a pulp to teach them a lesson.

Aria was basically nonexistent in a society that favored the strong, bold, and beautiful. All of the things she wasn’t.

Needless to say, when Cresilen’s royal family had summoned her, it was something she never saw coming.

* * *

“Ariiiaaaa!”

The abruptness and volume of the scream pierced the silence, making the young woman jump to her feet and run to where it came from. She made a beeline for the porch, sending the papers she was working on flying off the table.

“Rosie?! Rosie, what is it?!” she darted her head from left to right.

She saw Rosie sitting on one side of the wooden bench, looking down at her phone in her hands.

Once Aria was seated next to her, Rosie turned her head to face her, holding her phone out, where a video was playing onscreen.

“Thank you, Dieter. I am here, at the Square, where villagers heard gunshots coming from the crowd during Cresilen’s Annual Fall Festival, where the royal family made their traditional public appearance. Police—who took two suspects into custody—believe the intended target to be King Werner. However in an attempt to save his father’s life, Prince Hugo was shot just above his heart. The prince is now in critical condition. Ten others sustained minor injuries,” the reporter announced.

While the camera panned to paramedics tending to the aforementioned attendants who got hit, Aria and Rosie looked towards the trail in the woods. There was a loud whinny echoing from between the trees, followed by galloping over the dirt and leaves on the ground. A big, white horse came barreling towards the house. Only the rich owned horses, most in black or brown. But a white horse? That was the undeniable sign of a noble owner.

The rider—a white male with short, blond locks swept to over one side of his head—stopped the horse. Rosie stood up, fast walking towards the man. Aria told the children to stay inside before closing the front door. She leaned against the doorframe and watched Rosie converse with the man, both looking equally worried.

It was when the man glanced at Aria, then looked back to Rosie, that she started feeling her heart pounding against her ribcage.

As half-expected, Rosie called her over.

Now being within hearing distance, he addressed the younger woman.

“Aria Ashley? I am Matthias Krause, assistant to Prince Hugo,” the man tugged at his burgundy cloak, where a gold crest was pinned by the collar. “His Highness asked me to escort you to the castle’s ward, where he is being treated. We must hurry, as we do not know how much longer he will stay conscious.”

After getting Rosie’s nod of approval, Aria looked back to Matthias. “Of course, sir.”

“Great,” he half-smiled and extended his hand. “Hop on.”

Feeling every bit of self-consciousness, Aria met Rosie’s eyes as a way to ask for help.

Getting the hint, Rosie helped her up with ease and with the tug of Matthias’s hand, was able to get Aria on the horse. She slipped her dark pink ballet flats into the second set of stirrups and tried not to look down, focusing instead on the cloaked back in front of her.

“Hold on tight,” Matthias advised, sensing her anxiety.

She put her arms around his waist and gave one last look at Rosie’s reassuring smile, then the house. Behind the windows, she could just make out the small faces of the children peering through the glass.

The horse rode off into the woods, passing the town square, and up the path leading to the white limestone castle.

* * *

 “Follow me,” Matthias said over his shoulder.

Aria ran close behind him, down a short tunnel.

They burst into the brown double doors and immediately, her heart tightened with all the royals’ eyes on her.

“She’s here! Make room!” a doctor got up from his stool and stepped back, the nurses working with him dropping their tools and following suit.

Aria ran towards the body on the stretcher and placed her hands on his shoulders, being careful not to squeeze, no matter how much her mind urged her to in the midst of the situation.

“You’re going to be okay, Your Highness,” Aria told his seemingly lifeless body.

Normally, his skin was a light peach color. His complexion was turning white, making his blond hair stick out more.

Her hands still on the prince, she looked towards the doctor. “Have you taken the bullet out?”

“It’s been out. He lost a lot of blood,” the doctor replied before covering his nose and mouth with his fist, propped up by his arm.

Aria closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She kept one hand over his shoulder, close to where he’d gotten shot, and moved the other over his cheek.

“Prince Hugo... Come back. We’re all here for you. You’re going to make it. You’re strong,” Aria said in her soft-spoken voice.

She checked his face for life. As the color made its way up the prince’s neck, she winced and closed her eyes again to keep from crying. The pain was being transferred through her hand, flowing to her own heart.

The color was returning to his face.

“It’s working!” a nurse gasped to the doctor, her eyes wide in amazement, to which the latter merely nodded as he kept watching with much intrigue.

Under the oxygen mask hooked up to the breathing apparatus, Prince Hugo’s parted lips took in the air being administered to him. His eyelids slowly peeled back, revealing the gray orbs underneath.

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the bright light of the infirmary. With his slightly confused gaze, he acknowledged the presence of each person in the room. Finally, he made eye contact with the woman sitting on the edge of the stretcher. He’d never seen her before. He marveled at this tan figure with hair as dark as the midnight skies. She wore a purple frock with an upside-down V cut into the collar, stitched together with ribbon that was the same shade as the dress. He found himself smiling under the mask.

“Hello, Your Highness,” Aria blushed.

For a few seconds, she didn’t feel the pain she’d taken from him. That was until she heard a shrill voice a few feet behind her.

“Oh my God, you’re awake!” the person said.

Aria felt a hand on her shoulder shove her away from the stretcher.

The newly arrived visitor sat where Aria had been and grabbed the prince’s face. She kissed his forehead and stroked the side of his face with her hand, her manicured nails brushing over his cheek.

 _Princess Scarlett_ , Aria thought, as her heart dropped to her stomach.

The pain was stronger than before, but she bit her tongue so as to not call attention to herself. Not that anyone _would_ notice her anyway. She tried to get up from where she was shoved to on the floor, but stopped and clutched her shoulder.

Sure enough, this got Scarlett’s attention.

Her long, blond hair twirled with the slight spin of her shoulder. Aria saw the look of disgust on Scarlett’s face and tried throwing one back. The pain was so unbearable; she was unable to react in time for her to see.

Hugo looked sympathetically to the side, trying to meet Aria’s eyes again, but she was already being led out of the room.

He could just make out his father’s “I think we’re done here” before shooing her out.

Scarlett took the prince’s hand in hers. “Hi Hoogie-bear! How are you feeling?”

* * *

 Two weeks later

Aria sat in the rocking chair on the opposite end of the porch where the bench was. Her feet rested on top of a matching stool while she read a book for school.

Just as she was about to doze off, her fingers loosening its grip on the book covers, she saw the legs of a white horse stop in front of the house.

She lifted her head from behind the book, ready to greet Matthias.

It was Prince Hugo.

She scrambled onto her feet and walked down the three steps leading from the porch to the ground.

He stopped and she met him halfway, curtsying. When she thought she’d held the position long enough, her eyes shot up to his face.

“Aria,” he smiled and nodded.

She stood up straight. “Your Highness. I—“

“I wanted to thank you for what you did. I’m... I’m sorry it took so long for me to finally say it,” he rubbed the back of his head, then crossed his gloved hands over his stomach.

“Your Highness, there’s no need to thank me. It’s... It’s what I do,” Aria grinned shyly, her own hands crossed behind her back.

His lips parted, baring the tips of his front teeth. Then, he closed his mouth.

“I’d like to speak with you again... about your abilities,” he spoke again. “I’d like to know more about it.”


End file.
